Friday When It Rained
by Meatball42
Summary: "I'm not coming back. There's no fixing this." "There's nothing to fix, Kate! You're not dead, you can't be!" Song!fic, Post-Twilight


**Author's Note: This was based off the song 'Hello' by Evanescence, one of the most tender and quietly sad songs I've heard in a while. Listen to it if you get the chance, it really helped me write this.**

[*]

He sat on the bench right outside the forest, just like they had so many times before. It had taken a while before she trusted him with this, he knew it was one of the things she liked to do alone, and he'd caught the importance of it when she'd invited him along. The paths in the forest that she liked to run were her private place, dark trails and the smell of the wilderness, just far enough away from D.C. that work and personal issues didn't have a say. She'd asked him to come running with her one Saturday, and it had stuck on all the weekends they weren't on call. He never knew what it was that made her let him into this part of her life, and he'd never asked. He had, however, been grateful.

This bench, the one they sat on after their runs, sweating and panting, him usually teasing her about something, her threatening to withhold the water bottle from him. She'd almost always handed it over, though, only keeping it from him when he'd been particularly lewd or insensitive. Now, he looked over to his right, where she'd always sat. It was empty, of course. He looked back ahead, silently.

_Of course she's not here, it's not Saturday. She runs on Saturdays._

"_Ran_, Tony. I _ran_ on Saturdays."

He looked over. She had sat down next to him, looking just like she always had. She wore a jogging outfit tight enough to allow her versatility and give him a nice view, but she always wore enough cloth to keep that pureness she'd always had, no matter how much he tried to convince her otherwise.

"Tony, you know I'm dead."

He looked ahead. Across the back road, kids are playing in an elementary school. Funny, how they'd come here dozens of times but he'd never seen any kids. _Because we always come here on Saturdays_, he mused. In the present time, a school bell rang and the kids started rushing back to the main building. It wasn't long after they were all inside that he spoke.

"If you're dead, what are you doing here?"

It wasn't that he didn't believe her. He knew Kate would never lie to him about something this serious, the matter of her life or death. There was a plausible reason for her to be saying this. Obviously, if she was sitting next to him and saying she was dead, the only explanation was that he was in some strange, convoluted dream.

"I'm not, Tony. I'm your mind, giving you someone to talk to. You need to sort this out."

Tony laughed under his breath. _She always said I was crazy, but she never tried to convince me she was a figment of my own imagination._

"If I was imagining you, Kate, you'd be wearing a lot less than a jogging suit."

He turned to her, seeing if he made her blush. But it hadn't fazed her this time, she was staring back at him impassively.

"You know what Gibbs will think if you keep talking about me in the present tense. He'll think you're in denial."

Tony watched the gray clouds that were driving closer, like a huge, slow-moving tsunami waiting to crash down on them. "There's nothing to deny, Kate."

She sighed. "Tony, this isn't right. I know we were close, but you have to see the truth. I'm not coming back. There's no fixing this."

"There's nothing to fix, Kate!" He shouted and stood as small drops of rain began to hit the pavement in front of him. "You're not dead, you can't be! You were standing right there!" He fell back to the bench, the burst of anger leaving as quickly as it had appeared. "I saw you, Kate. You were right next to me, and I saw you-" He cut off.

The rain was coming down harder now, and even the few protruding branches sticking over him from the forest at their backs couldn't protect him. The rain pounded his shoulders, and when he closed his eyes he could see those roofs, searching for shining cartridges, the rain disguising the tears that streamed freely down his face. As they were doing now.

"I'm not real, Tony. I'm here so you can come to grips with this, so you can hide for a while."

Her eyes burned into his. How had he never realized how bright they were? He would have spent all his time staring into them if he'd known they would be glazed over soon, flecked with the same blood that was splattered on his face. He sobbed.

"I'm not dreaming, Kate, am I?" He asked in almost a whisper, hoping she'd say he was right, knowing she wouldn't.

"No, Tony, you're not."

Her face was sad, compassionate, all the things he'd loved about his partner, the woman he'd counted on, whom he'd trusted with his life. Suddenly, he knew.

"But you're still here, right?"

She smiled a bit, nodded. "Yeah, Tony, I'm still here. I'll always be here, in your memories. But I'm all that's left. You've gotta accept that, and move on."

She reached out and cupped his cheek. The rain had made him numb, though, and he couldn't tell if her hand was solid. "Don't cry, Tony. Don't cry when you think about me."

He nodded, choking on the lump in his throat and closing his eyes against the memories of her that overwhelmed him. When he opened them, the bench was empty, and the rain was still soaking through him, but it felt right. Less like when he cried in it after she was shot, more like when they laughed together as they ran through it.

Kate always loved running in the rain.


End file.
